I maintained my smile. It didn't reach my eyes. "Go. She's your brother's widow. It's only right you look after them."
Relief washed over him. "Okay. I'll just get him settled. Wait for me—I'll come read to Carter once Tommy's asleep."
He never came.
Long after I had coaxed Carter to sleep, the guest room door creaked open. Brooklyn leaned against the frame, looking at me with provocative triumph. She tugged her silk pajama collar down just enough to reveal fresh, ambiguous red marks on her neck.
"Sorry, Ava." She purred. "Justin fell asleep in my room."
I smiled. No surprise flickered in my gaze. "Okay."
A scene I'd witnessed enough times to become immune to.
Early the next morning, Justin emerged from the guest bedroom. Dark circles bruised the skin under his eyes.
Brooklyn stood on her tiptoes, fussing over him as she straightened his collar. "You worked so hard last night, Justin."
The double meaning hung heavy. In the past, those words would have ignited a screaming match. I would have demanded explanations.
Now, Justin glanced at me, panic flaring as he opened his mouth to explain.
I cut him off with a light laugh. "Eat breakfast. We have to visit the grave soon."